


In A Name

by StarlightInHerEyes22



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: And way too many names, BAMF!Merlin, Friendship, Gen, I might turn it into a two-shot at some point, Magic Reveal, Merlin has a bit of a rant, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightInHerEyes22/pseuds/StarlightInHerEyes22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of some quest or another, Merlin, Arthur and the knights find themselves stuck in the middle of a shrine being told that, if they wish to proceed unharmed, they need only speak their true names and titles. Straight-forward enough, right?</p><p>Wrong. Merlin really hates the Old Religion sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Name

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Что в имени тебе моем](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056018) by [NewBeginnings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewBeginnings/pseuds/NewBeginnings)



> A short little one-shot in which Merlin gets to vent some of his frustration. Before you read - I wrote this well over a year ago, so please be kind! That said, I _have_ gone over it and given it a bit of a makeover, although I left the ending as it was. I'm sort of posting this as an apology for not getting another chapter of Enquiries up this week. I will definitely be updating it next week ^_^
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin - that privilege belongs to the BBC. No profit is being made, for entertainment purposes only.

“What is your name?”

It was a simple enough question, Merlin thought ruefully. For anyone other than him. The spirit’s eyes flickered towards him as the thought crossed his mind, almost as though she could hear it, and her lips curved knowingly upwards as she turned her attention expectantly back towards the king and his knights. 

“It is an easy question, my lord. Simply tell me your name, and you may pass. That is the rule of this place.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and Merlin could almost see his mind churning through possible repercussions, trying to find some kind of trap. He mustn’t have been able to, because after a moment of deliberation the king squared his shoulders and said firmly, “Arthur Pendragon.”

“Uh uh,” the wraith tutted, twitching one finger back and forth mockingly. “The shrine demands to know the full name of those who enter it. If you want to go further, you must speak, and hold nothing back. Only then will this place know who you truly are, and only then can you fulfil your purpose here.”

“Fine,” Arthur snapped, and Merlin winced as the spirit’s eyes darkened at the king’s tone, before smoothing out to their previous ghostly grey. “My name is Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot.”

“And?” she said archly, and Arthur’s expression turned confused. 

“And what? That is my name and title.”

Merlin hesitated, then remembered the stone doors of the shrine slamming shut behind them, locking them away from daylight forever if they did not comply with its demands. “The Once and Future King,” he hissed, and five pairs of eyes swung towards him questioningly. He shrugged, self-conscious. This was going to be fun to explain later. “Just say it,” he muttered, and Arthur rolled his eyes, dismissing the matter. 

“Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. And the Once and Future King, apparently. Whatever that means.”

The lady smiled, something cunning and feral in the expression. “Very good. You may pass.” Arthur nodded shortly and went to take a step forward, only to halt in confusion when the way did not open. “Oh, forgive me,” the spirit said liltingly, sounding amused. “ _You_ may pass. But if your men wish to accompany you, I must know their names as well.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest, then started pounding faster. He shrank back into the shadows, hoping no-one would notice. Maybe she just meant the knights. The ostensibly important members of their party. Or maybe he could just stay here and wait for them all to come back. Except, knowing his luck, there would be some form of horrible monster waiting for them in the bowels of the shrine – some other form of _test_ – and if he wasn’t with them his friends would all manage to get themselves horribly killed. 

The knights, not noticing Merlin’s internal dilemma, looked to their king for guidance, and Arthur nodded his permission. Of course, the knights would have to accompany their king. Leon was the first to step forwards – although why he thought the ceremony necessary in such a confined space was lost on Merlin – and proudly announced, “Sir Leon of House Bedivere, First Knight of Camelot.”

Maybe he could talk to the spirit in his mind. Explain why he couldn’t tell her his name, and beg for her to let him off. Or he could just say it in his head, and maybe that would count. Reaching out, he tried searching for her consciousness, only to find an inaccessible void. 

Oh. Right. Because she was dead. Hence why she was _floating_.

Elyan came next, announcing his name and position with a great relish that hadn’t faded since he had been knighted, and then Gwaine. Merlin took a moment to smile in amusement as his friend, after being chastised by the wraith for ‘holding back’, grudgingly declared the name of his father’s house – much to the disbelief of his fellows. Merlin took the time to desperately wrack his brain for a way out of saying his name, but any such answer eluded him. After several minutes of shocked chattering at the revelation and sullen answers from Gwaine, the spirit – who had succeeded in looking fantastically bored by their petty human dilemmas – turned to Percival, who quickly and proudly proclaimed himself as “Sir Percival Wheeler, Knight of Camelot.”

“May we pass, now?” Arthur asked impatiently, still shooting Gwaine incredulous and slightly betrayed glances, and Merlin held his breath. If Arthur was reacting like that to Gwaine being of the _nobility_ , how would he react to…

“There is one more person present,” the spirit said languidly, hiding a yawn. “Speak your name.”

Again, his friends turned to look at him expectantly, and he gritted his teeth. “My name is Merlin,” he said, hoping that it would be enough – willing her to accept his answer. The spirit raised one eyebrow and smiled. 

_The rules change for none._ Her voice floated across his mind, and Merlin cursed. She _had_ heard him before. _Not even you. Speak aloud, or do not pass. But be warned. Either you all continue, or you all die here. Those are the rules._

 _Your rules suck_ , Merlin commented angrily, and the spirit’s smile grew wider. 

_I did not make them. I simply enforce them._ “You full name, please,” she said out loud, and Merlin found himself out of time to think.

“That _is_ my full name,” Merlin said unwillingly, and out of the corner of his eye he saw more than one of the knights – Leon, Percival, Elyan – quickly avert their faces to hide their widening eyes. Merlin crossed his arms, refusing to look ashamed. Arthur and Gwaine, who had known about his absent father, grimaced sympathetically. 

“A position, perhaps?” the spirit wheedled. “A title? Some other name by which you are known? Be warned, I know when you are lying. Or holding back.”

“Servant of Camelot,” he hedged. That could technically stand for his role as Emrys. But the spirit’s smile was unrelenting, and the doors did not open. 

Arthur stepped forwards angrily. “He told you his name,” Arthur snapped, and Merlin had never been gladder for the king’s prattish nature. “Now leave him alone and let us pass.”

“He told me _one_ of his names,” the spirit countered with just as much fire, the shadows deepening around her eyes, and Arthur snorted. “Once again, I do not make the rules, king of Camelot. I only uphold them, and they do not bend. You either announce your full title, or you die. It is not my fault if someone has an unusually large number of titles.”

“Merlin doesn’t have any titles,” Arthur insisted, and Merlin widened his eyes at the spirit, pleading one last time. But no. 

“So you refuse to answer?” was the only reply. “You choose death over truth? Then so be it.”

 _Oh hell_ , was the only intelligible thought that crossed Merlin’s mind as the stone around them started to tremor. The knights cried out in panic and the spirit smiled serenely as, with an almighty, cracking moan, the walls, shrieking in protest, began _moving_ – inching inwards, compacting those few centimetres closer on either side as Merlin watched. Arthur started shouting for the knights to brace the unforgiving rock, but Merlin was fairly certain that any attempt to stop them from being sandwiched would be fruitless; and the grin in the wraith’s eyes as she waved daintily goodbye only served to confirm his suspicion. 

“Merlin, if there’s anything else that you can think of, now would be a good time!” Gwaine shouted over the screeching of the walls, and Merlin closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out. He pulled himself up to his full height, squaring his jaw as a silvery mist began to gather around the wraith, signalling that she had had enough and was about to flee and leave them to their fate. 

“Emrys,” Merlin said quietly, and everything ground to a halt.

The walls stopped moving. The mist dissipated, and the spirit smirked like a cat, hovering in place. The knights stopped their futile efforts to hold back the walls, and instead turned to look at him in surprise. 

“What?” Arthur said succinctly. 

“Emrys,” Merlin said again. “My name is Emrys.”

“No it’s not,” Arthur disagreed with surety. “It’s Merlin.” 

“Continue, please,” the spirit interrupted. “Names and titles. Wouldn’t want to leave anything out.” Her head tilted back towards the walls, halted at least ten centimetres closer on either side than they had been five minutes ago. 

_I really hate the Old Religion sometimes_ , Merlin said tiredly, hoping that the spirit was listening. This was not going to be pretty.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” Merlin said awkwardly, turning to Arthur, whose expression closed down warily. 

“Find out what?” the king said sharply, and the knights shifted behind him.

“You been hiding a secret noble background too, Merlin?” Gwaine asked hopefully, and Merlin hesitated before shaking his head ruefully.

“Not quite.” Avoiding Arthur’s eyes, he glanced back at the spirit, who made a little shooing motion, urging him on. Merlin took a deep breath. 

“My name is Merlin, servant of Camelot. Some know me as Emrys. If you want titles, the only ones I know of are these – warlock.” He heard five sharp intakes of breath, and glanced up to see each of his friends with a hand firmly holding the hilt of their respective sword, wariness transforming into suspicion and betrayal. Merlin held up his hand, ploughing on. He had committed now.

“ _Guardian_ of the Once and Future King.” He paused and looked pointedly at Arthur, who took a few minutes to stop glaring at him murderously and start in recognition of the name. “Last Dragonlord.” He glanced at the spirit, who raised one eyebrow. She wasn’t done with him yet. “High Lord of the Druids.” Percival’s mouth was hanging open. “Defender of Albion.” Leon looked like he was having a heart attack. “Master of the Mirror of Life and Death.” Elyan actually took a step backwards. “Consort – oh, shut up, Gwaine – consort to Freya, Lady of the Lake and guardian of Avalon.”

“You’re _married_?” Arthur choked out, and Merlin couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“That’s what you got out of all of that, sire?”

“Is that all?” the spirit questioned, and the walls moaned ominously. “Or are you still holding back?”

“Dragoon the Great!” Merlin shouted, getting frustrated. “Egg-father to Aithusa! Brother of the Great Dragon Kilgarrah, and son of Balinor and Hunith! Slayer of Nimueh, conqueror of Cornelius Sigan and vanquisher of the High Priestess Morgause! Killer of the undead, warden of Camelot, seer, war-wizard, healer, liar, deceiver, criminal, hidden shield, he who walks in the shadows!” By the end of it Merlin realised that he was all but roaring, the dragon within him stirring and suffusing his voice with power. “ _What more do you want from me_?”

“The truth,” the spirit said calmly, ignoring his ire and staring into his eyes with a gaze like looking into death itself. “The truth, and then you may pass.” 

“The prophesized immortal,” Merlin said quietly. “Most powerful magic user ever to walk the earth.” The spirit smiled and shook her head. That wasn’t it either. Merlin wracked his mind, studiously ignoring the choking sounds coming from Arthur’s direction. There had to be something that he wasn’t thinking of. He ran back over the things he had done, the enemies he had faced, the allies he had made. Nothing jumped out at him. “I don’t know,” he said almost inaudibly. 

“A pity,” the spirit said, and Merlin bowed his head in defeat as the stone began its pitiless march towards them once more, and the knights threw their shoulders against it in panic, shouting to each other. “The answer is right before you. Think, Emrys. Even now, what are you? What are you thinking? What is more important to you than anything else, even with your own life on the line?”

There was only one thing. Merlin let his eyes flick hesitantly over to Arthur, who hadn’t even flinched when the walls started closing in on them, or so much as glanced at his approaching death – a death that would be Merlin’s fault. The king was just staring at him, as though trying to process everything that he had just heard and failing, leaving only one question – _why_? Merlin just hoped that his friend could read the answer in his eyes. _For you. Always for you_.

Then the answer hit him with the force of a sledge-hammer, leaving him breathless. Of course. There was only one other thing that truly mattered, after all. He found himself smiling at his own obliviousness, and saw the confusion in Arthur’s eyes at the seemingly out of place expression. 

Merlin turned back to the spirit, who was watching him intently. “You’re right. There is one thing that is more important to me than any other title. And you will know if I am lying.” He paused, and went on, listing that final, crucial name. “Friend of Arthur Pendragon.”

The effect was instantaneous. The rumbling stopped. The walls ceased their movement, and then retracted back to their original position. The knights nearly fell over at the release of pressure, and the spirit smiled in the manner of an indulgent parent, or a teacher whose student had done well. 

“Well,” she said lightly. “That was all very dramatic. Well done. You can all proceed.” Then she vanished, with a tinkling laugh and a residual swirl of mist – and the moment she was gone, the doorway at the other end of the chamber swing open invitingly, leaving the way forward clear. 

Merlin didn’t care. He was watching Arthur carefully, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t have to wait long. With a face like thunder, the king strode forward, closing the distance between them, and Merlin felt his smile fade. He shrank backwards as Arthur reached for him…

…and crushed Merlin to his chest in a tight, fond, brotherly hug.

“You,” Arthur said gruffly, “are an idiot. The biggest idiot in the world, actually.”

“The most idiotic idiot ever to walk the earth?” Gwaine suggested shakily, and Arthur let go of a stunned Merlin to glare at his knight – who shrugged and muttered, “Too soon, then.”

“Arthur…” Merlin started, but the king cut him off. 

“Not now, Merlin. Please. I’ve got enough to process, thank you very much. But later,” and here his expression grew stern, “later we are going to have a very, very long talk. Agreed?” Merlin nodded wordlessly. “I… I think that everyone here can agree that, from what we just saw, you’re still… you. Only you could be that much of an idiot. And, apparently, you’re still our friend.” Merlin nodded again, and the king suddenly grinned evilly. “He who walks in the shadows?” the king snorted. “Really, Merlin?” 

“We were all about to be crushed to death!” Merlin exclaimed. “I was kind of running out of ideas!”

“Actually, I think I’m having more trouble with guardian of the Once and Future King,” Arthur added thoughtfully, and Merlin glared at him. 

“You know, you’re right, _sire_. We need to have a very, _very long talk_.” But he was smiling as he said it.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the awful, sappy ending, but it _was_ mainly just about Merlin getting to list all of his names - and, as I said, this is quite an old work. Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think - and if you can think of any titles that I missed, let me know and I'll slot it in there!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(PODFIC) In A Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442225) by [TalkingToMyselfAgain (UmbraeCalamitas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbraeCalamitas/pseuds/TalkingToMyselfAgain)




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